


Who's Her Daddy?

by Inner_Devil



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Complete, DNA questions, Death, Deceit, F/M, Finished, Guns, Lies, M/M, Murder, Paternity test, Shooting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 22:55:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9094396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inner_Devil/pseuds/Inner_Devil
Summary: Sherlock has decided to keep a wonderful relationship with Mary, John, and the baby. But will all that change when Mary reveals a huge secret? Will John be able to accept the truth about his daughter?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Marcespot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marcespot/gifts).



At first, John had believed wholeheartedly that Rosamund was his daughter. Why wouldn't he? After all, he was married to Mary. They'd had sex. About nine months later, Mary gave birth. It made perfect sense and he had little reason to question it. Sure, she'd lied to him in the past. But she couldn't fake a pregnancy. Could she?

The doubts began to creep in months later. Sherlock had been at the hospital and even in the room when Rosamund was delivered. That hadn't stuck out to John until later, when he began noticing little things. How Sherlock looked at Rosamund, gently and with far more sentiment than John usually saw from him. The shared glances between Mary and Sherlock when Rosamund did something particularly well for her age. Then there was the moment that really got to him. 

They had been at 221B for a visit, letting Sherlock play with his goddaughter while they all relaxed together. It had been Mary's idea to come over for a visit and she seemed a bit tense. And then it happened. Rosamund's first word.

"Dada," the dark-haired girl babbled, sitting on Sherlock's lap and gazing up at him with piercing blue eyes. Everyone stopped.

"What did she just say?" John muttered as Mary and Sherlock began looking tensely at one another.

"Dada," Rosamund repeated, still looking at Sherlock.

"No, no, sweetie. Dada's over here," John insisted, trying to get her to look over at him.

"Actually," Mary began, getting John's attention. "We need to talk about that."

John frowned, seeing the looks between his wife and his best friend. Something was wrong. Something big.

"Tell me what's going on. Now," he demanded.

"John," Sherlock tried, but was cut off.

"No. You're not talking your way around this one. I want to hear it from her," John told them firmly, staring his wife down. "What do you mean? What's going on?"

"John......you aren't Rosie's father," Mary admitted softly.

"What?" John stammered. "Then.....who is?" he questioned, though he felt he already knew the answer.

"Sherlock," his wife answered, her tone sure and firm.

"What?  _Sherlock_ is the father?!" the blond snapped, teeth bared as his breathing picked up. He jumped to his feet angrily, glaring at Mary. 

"Of  _course_ he is," Mary insisted as she too stood. "Why would I be making this up, John?"

The blogger, glancing between the pair as he seethed with fury, tried to figure things out. The confusion and anger was clear in his expression as his eyes darted between the two adults and the baby. Little things that had been happening over the past few months were adding up. The kind words Mary and Sherlock had shared. How well they'd gotten on from the start. How much time Sherlock spent with Mary, even when John wasn't around. His presence in the delivery room. And now this. 

"What are you talking about?" John demanded, glancing between them. "What is she talking about?" he repeated, looking to Sherlock now. "Sherlock.....you'd better...explain.....'cos I'm not getting this."

"Oh,  _I'll_ be doing the explaining. In print," Mary interrupted, pulling out a lab report and handing it to John. "It's all here -- conclusive proof."

"Yeah, show me something," John scoffed, taking the paper angrily. His heart beat rapidly as his eyes scanned over various lines and numbers that all seemed jumbled up in his anger. Little bits and pieces stood out to him, explaining everything.

_DNA Test Report_

_..._

_Alleged Father: Holmes, Sherlock_

_..._

_Probability of Paternity: 99.9996%_

Sherlock glanced nervously at Mary, though he tried to hide his emotions. Rosamund still nestled in his arms, he stood and took a tentative step towards John. The detective paused though, knowing how dangerous his friend could be in anger. He couldn't lose his friendship over this though. Not his one friend. His lower lip trembled as emotions welled up, Mary grinning viciously at him. Only Sherlock and Mary knew the truth. None of it was real. John wasn't the father, but neither was Sherlock. Mary was just tired of Sherlock butting in all the time. They'd been negotiating and Sherlock continued to grow closer to John. Mary knew if she didn't do something soon, John would realize his true feelings and leave her for him. So she had to get rid of him. Murder wasn't an option. But this. This would make John so furious he'd never want anything to do with Sherlock again. 

"Nope," John scoffed in disbelief. "This can't be....."

As John looked up, Mary resumed her facade of the innocent wife and pointed to Sherlock.

"Ask him. He's right here! Just ask him. Tell him, Sherlock," she insisted, sounding scared and nervous.

"Sherlock?" John asked quietly, his expression changing from fury to anguish. He watched as Mary moved closer to Sherlock, taking his arm as he used the other to hold Rosamund. Sherlock, rather than looking to her or the baby, gazed at John as though memorizing his face, then closed his eyes as he fought a difficult battle against himself in his mind.

"Tell him how I didn't want to do this, and how you thought John would be  _much_ better for the parenting role," Mary pressed, making her voice small and broken. "How  _you_ insisted it was best for the baby."

Sherlock didn't say a word as he struggled. How could he do this? How could he betray his friend? There had to be another way out, right?

"Tell him," Mary continued. "Just tell him. No more lies, it's all over. Just tell him, Sherlock. Just tell him. Tell him!"

"Stop it! Stop it NOW!" Sherlock snapped, refusing to lie to his friend. Not this time. Not again.

Mary immediately stepped back, switching to her natural role and drawing the gun she constantly kept concealed. Aiming to John's head, she smirked viciously at Sherlock.

"Aww, so this is how you want it, eh Sherlock?" she crooned. "Pity. I thought you would want to save your poor friend."

John glanced between the two, then looked at the report. "It was all fake, wasn't it?" he muttered. "I'm her father."

"You aren't," Sherlock sighed. "And neither am I. Rosamund's father isn't either one of us........It's Moriarty."

"Oh, you've done it now, Sherlock," Mary growled, flicking off the safety. "Now I have to kill you both. At least little Rosie gets to add a new moment to her baby book. Baby's First Murder! And crime scene all in one. I'm so proud," Mary cooed, grinning to the baby. 

"You're not touching either of us," John growled, pulling out his own gun. Sherlock smirked. He should've known John would still carry his gun everywhere. "I should've known better than to trust you. You've been lying since day one. But now I'm done. I'm never letting you lie to anyone again."

Before anyone could react, two gunshots went off simultaneously. The first, from John's gun, entered Mary's chest, striking her heart and killing her instantly. The other, from Mary's gun, was knocked off its course as she fell back and rather than hitting its intended target, hit him in the shoulder. The same shoulder that had been shot before. Both collapsed almost within the same second. But while Mary landed dead on the floor, John was writhing and hissing in pain. 

"John!" Sherlock cried as Rosamund began to wail. The detective rushed forward, trying to help his friend. 

"Call....an ambulance," John groaned, pressing a hand to the wound to keep pressure on it. 

Sherlock did just that, calling for the ambulance, Lestrade, and his brother. Soon Mycroft had a team there to make Mary disappear. Lestrade met them all at the hospital and was there with Sherlock when John was out of surgery and allowed visitors. They were assured everything would be fine and John would just have more scarring on that shoulder. When John woke, Sherlock was there with Rosamund in his arms and Lestrade and Mycroft at his side.

"Sherlock," John murmured, smiling weakly. "C'mere."

Sherlock stepped closer, smiling a bit. "I'm sorry," he whispered sadly.

"For what? You told me the truth. And now Mary is gone," the blogger insisted.

"But now you know....about her and Moriarty," the brunet commented.

"I know.....But Rosie, legally, is still mine. And she's certainly taken a liking to you," John chuckled softly, seeing the baby grasping his coat. "Hi, sweetie. Oh, you're going to be such a smartie, aren't you?" he cooed as she looked at him.

"John," Sherlock began, but was cut off.

"Sherlock.....you've been there for me this whole time. You were willing to die for me....Would you, maybe, consider....raising Rosamund with me? And maybe even....going on a date with me?" John asked nervously.

Sherlock's eyes grew wide and he nodded a bit. "Absolutely," he murmured with a grin. "I would love to go out with you. And help you raise Rosamund. As long as you promise to move back into 221B."

"Of course. That's our home," John agreed.

Eventually John healed and was able to return home, moving all of Rosie's things as well as his own to 221B. Sherlock and John's relationship went wonderfully, though they had their issues. And after a few years of dating, they were married. Rosie was the flower girl and did a wonderful job, going on to grow up with two loving fathers who would go to the ends of the earth for her. She never knew about her true parents, as John and Sherlock refused to talk about Mary or Moriarty. They just all enjoyed a new life at 221B Baker Street.


End file.
